Liquid Courage
by captainbean
Summary: Jiya is determined to help Lucy drink her troubles away the same night the Delta Force boys are in town. Drunk-Lucy doesn't appear to have any kind of filter and it's up to Wyatt to take care of her. {Lyatt, post season-1, early season-2}


**(a/n)** _Happy new year, all! My day job caught up with me in December but now I've finally had time to get this out of my brain, hooray! This is inspired by the prompt about a night out with the Delta Force boys but isn't really true to it because I couldn't make Amy fit, so it's just for fun. Enjoy!_

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Timeless, alas.

 **Liquid Courage**

"I'll bet you twenty bucks I can do it." Jiya grinned at Wyatt at she leaned against his kitchen counter, her eyes impishly baiting him as he continued to dry dinner plates. She was waiting for Lucy to get dressed as they were heading out for a rare Saturday evening bar excursion. Rufus, Wyatt and Lucy had returned from a hellish six hours chasing Emma through 1903 in the early hours, and after sleeping off their rough ride Jiya had proclaimed that what they all needed was to blow off a little steam. Rufus, however, had an all-night gaming marathon planned and some of Wyatt's Delta Force team were in town, so Ladies Night was in order and Jiya planned on helping Lucy drink her troubles away.

Wyatt raised a skeptical eyebrow as he flung the dish cloth over his shoulder. "No deal. It can't be done."

Lucy had been staying with Wyatt in the wake of her mother revealing her true identity as the Empress of Rittenhouse (an unofficial title acidly coined by Rufus), and Wyatt had gallantly given up his bedroom to her despite her protestations that she'd be fine on the couch. He wouldn't hear of her staying in a hotel whilst she looked for a new apartment, despite the round-the-clock security Agent Christopher had promised would be supplied, insisting he could do a better job of protecting Lucy himself. After a few weeks, the already lackluster apartment hunting had tailed off as they'd fallen into a comfortable and somewhat domestic routine of driving to the office, going on coffee runs and arguing about who would be on dishes detail. (There were no arguments about cooking; Wyatt point blank refused to eat anything prepared by Lucy, arguing neither of them had time for food poisoning.) The apartment search had started off as a daily hunt, fervently highlighting listings, then dropped off to every other day. Now on week six of this arrangement, Lucy had glanced over listings this evening as Wyatt had made dinner and then discarded them to give her full attention to intermittent taste tests during meal prep.

Wyatt, for his part, didn't seem in a hurry to see her leave, instead maintaining she could take all the time she needed after everything she'd been through… and _maybe_ he liked having her around. His once impersonal apartment now had potted plants dotted around, magnets on the fridge and hundreds of books everywhere. Wyatt was surprised to find he more than enjoyed having another presence in his living space after so long alone… Or maybe it was just Lucy. He was trying not to examine these particular feelings too closely.

"What can't be done?" Lucy asked, looking questioningly between her friends. She had silently exited Wyatt's bedroom without either of them hearing.

Jiya turned and took in the outfit she was wearing: blouse, blazer, jeans. "Uh uh. Try again."

"What?" Lucy queried, looking down at herself.

"It's _Saturday night_ , Lucy. I _know_ you can do better. I want to see jaws hitting the floor. Next!" Jiya demanded, pointing back down the hall. Wyatt, who had been reaching for another plate to dry, momentarily froze at Jiya's statement, his eyes flicking up to Lucy. _He_ certainly didn't like the idea of other people ogling her.

"Have you been drinking already?" Lucy called to Jiya over her shoulder as she rolled her eyes and grinned good-humoredly, doing as she was told and retreating back down the hall, the door closing after her a minute later.

"You'll thank me!" Jiya called back to her, before returning her attention back to Wyatt. "So. Twenty bucks?"

" _No_. I'm not going to take your money, Jiya." He smirked back at her, putting the last of the plates away and turning to face her.

"Pfft, as if, my friend. I'm telling you, I'll have Lucy drunk by the time the clock strikes twelve."

"I've only ever seen Lucy mildly tips, there's no way in hell you'll get her flat-out wasted. Trust me. You might as well hand over that twenty right now." Wyatt shrugged.

This only served to encourage Jiya more as she narrowed her eyes at him in challenge. "It's Saturday night! You guys _just_ got back, there's no way you're going to be called out again. I'm feeling pretty confident."

They heard the bedroom door click open again, and moments later Lucy was returning, eyebrows raised. "Well?" she asked. Outfit number two was an improvement with a skirt-heels-blouse combo, but still not what Jiya was angling for.

"Hmm." Jiya surveyed her friend, frowning in faux-contemplation and tapping her forefinger to her lips. "Better. But I think the answer lies behind door number three."

Lucy rolled her eyes again, turning to Wyatt instead. "What do you think?" she asked him.

He was gazing at her with a half-smile, making one of his cheeks dimple. "You look great," he offered.

Jiya rolled her eyes. "Of course you think that," she muttered, before addressing Lucy a little more loudly. "Trust me – just one more try."

" _Fine_. But this is the last one, and then we're leaving, ok?" Lucy laughingly warned Jiya, as her friend grinned at her. Lucy retreated back down the hall one last time, disappearing from sight for a third time.

"Seriously?" Jiya rounded on Wyatt. "Are you ever going to ask her out?"

Wyatt avoided Jiya's questioning gaze and scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I don't know what Rufus has told you-"

"Rufus doesn't need to tell me anything. I have the power of sight." Jiya snorted. "She'd say yes, y'know." She added more gently.

"It's complicated." He muttered. "With everything with her mom, and Lucy staying here…"

" _Exactly_." Jiya said exasperatedly, as if he were missing the point. "You guys already _live_ together! It's like you skipped the fun beginning stuff and went straight to the finish line. You passed Go and didn't collect $200."

"Are you using Monopoly as a dating analogy?" Wyatt screwed up his face in confusion.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, if you took me up on this little wager, I'm sure you guys could get over whatever's holding you back and have a little fun…" Jiya raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Lucy is _very_ honest when she's drunk."

"How do you know that?" Wyatt asked, intrigued.

Jiya grinned. "A few weeks ago when you guys got back from 1894, she got a little tipsy and told me not to let her drink any more so she wouldn't say anything she shouldn't... Pretty much just as you walked in the door. Which got me thinking, maybe she should loosen up a little and have some fun."

Wyatt raised his eyebrows in surprise at Jiya's admission, just as they heard the bedroom door open and Lucy click-clacking back down the hall towards them in her heels. Jiya wolf-whistled and Wyatt turned his head, his eyes widening and garnering Jiya the desired reaction of his jaw hitting the floor. Lucy was wearing a classic Little Black Dress that hugged her in all the right places, showing off her enviable long legs to their full potential.

"Too much?" she asked them a little self-consciously, brushing down the front of her dress with her palms.

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner! _Wow_ , Lucy!" Jiya clapped.

Wyatt's cloudy brain was having trouble forming a coherent thought as he stood there slack-jawed and dazed, taking in the sight of her. He'd seen her in many a beautiful period costume on their time-travel excursions, always elegant, always beautiful. Hell, if he were being honest with himself, he thought Lucy was beautiful when she was curled up on the couch in a sweater three times her size doing a crossword puzzle. But there was definitely something to be said for Jiya's insisted Saturday night attire. _Damn_.

Lucy smiled sheepishly, turning her gaze expectantly towards Wyatt. He cleared his throat, and shook his head slightly, trying to shake himself out of his reverie. He began gesticulating with the hand that wasn't propping him up on the counter, his knees suddenly a little weak. "You look- um, yeah, wow… Great. You look great-"

"I think that's a yes." Jiya stage-whispered, patting Wyatt on the arm as he glowered down at her. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me just grab a jacket," Lucy replied, as all three headed for the door, Wyatt escorting them across the apartment. He reached her coat before she did, and held it up for her to slip her arms into. Was it Wyatt's imagination, or was she blushing a little?

"You ladies have a good night." Wyatt told them, leaning against the doorframe as they made their exit. He looked pointedly at Jiya. " _Behave_."

"Not if I want that twenty bucks," Jiya winked at him, as Wyatt shook his head with a grin.

"What?" Lucy looked between them, as Jiya began dragging her towards the stairs and Wyatt called "Ignore her!"

"Have a good night with your friends!" Lucy smiled at Wyatt with a wave when she didn't get a straight answer from either of them, before disappearing from view down the staircase.

"Never gonna happen…" Wyatt smiled and chuckled to himself as he closed the apartment door. He'd meant what he'd said to Jiya – there was no way Lucy would be arriving home drunk later. She knew how to have a good time, but ultimately out of all of them she was the Responsible One. And sure, Lucy had been through hell lately, but he didn't believe for one second that she'd let herself lose control no matter how many glasses of wine were put in front of her or however Jiya dressed her up. Speaking of which… His imagination was currently taking him to a particularly wanton part of his brain as his thoughts wandered back to Lucy's outfit of choice for the evening. _Wow._ He shook his head to clear his mind, mentally chastising himself for some very ungentlemanly thoughts. Looking at his watch, he summarized the shower he was about to take if he were going to meet his Delta Force buddies on time better be a cold one.

* * *

When he arrived at the bar a little while later, the Delta Force boys were already there getting stuck into what Wyatt surmised to be at least their second round. They were gathered in a booth towards the back, laughing and joking, beer bottles both empty and half full strewn across the tabletop. Wyatt arrived in the side entrance, bypassing the bar as he'd been unable to get a space in the main part of the parking lot. The bar was certainly busy this evening. _Saturday night_ , Jiya's voice rang out in his head – of course. An unhelpful side effect of constant time-travelling (with an unhealthy dash of running for your life and trying to thwart the evil-doings of Rittenhouse psychos) was not really keeping track of what day it was in the present, or what the rest of the general population liked to traditionally do on them.

The soldiers spotted Wyatt before he had a chance to announce himself, breaking out into gleeful, uproarious shouts of welcome and raising their bottles and glasses to him.

"Wyatt Logan! Good to see you, man. How's it going?" Spencer Jones greeted him with a grin, clapping him on the back and putting a beer straight into his hand as he sat down.

"Can't complain." Wyatt grinned back, raising his beer in thanks.

"Ahh come on man, is that the best you can do? We all thought you were heading back! What's keeping you?" Michael Perkins enquired from the other side of the table.

"Sorry guys, I signed a non-disclosure. I think it's gonna be a while," Wyatt replied with a shrug.

"That's too bad. We miss you, dude. Mikey here isn't as good a wingman as you." Spencer punched him on the arm in a brotherly fashion.

"Hey," Michael protested. "You only think that because Wyatt always turns the ladies down, leaving you to pick up the pieces."

"Someone has to!" Spencer grinned, taking a gulp of beer.

"Nice to see you guys haven't changed one bit without my steadying influence." Wyatt rolled his eyes at his friends, chuckling to himself.

" _I'm_ always a gentleman, Wyatt, you don't have to worry about me." Michael insisted.

"Hey, me too, me too." Spencer insisted. "Speaking of which… incoming. Good evening, ma'am. Ma'am." Spencer stood and nodded in turn at the two women who were walking past their table. Wyatt noted they were ambling past at a slower than average gait, and he suspected it wasn't due to their ridiculously high foot-wear. A group of young, strong soldiers always attracted a certain amount of attention, something most of his friends relished.

Mikey stood too, with a warm smile on his face. "Ladies. Please. Take my seat." He motioned to the empty spot in the booth.

The women looked between the pair, yet their eyes zoned in on Wyatt who was doing his best to politely ignore the situation and focus on the beer in his hand. "Hi," the blonder of the two addressed him, ignoring Michael and Spencer, her more inebriated friend giggling at her side.

"Good evening, ma'am." Wyatt returned with a courteous yet uncomfortable smile.

" _Ma'am_. Wow, you guys sure know how to flatter a girl!" The blonde giggled, seeming genuinely flustered by their good manners. Wyatt couldn't help but think of his first meeting with Lucy and her snapping at him not to call her ma'am _'because we're practically the same age'_. The memory made Wyatt grin to himself and wonder what she was doing right at that moment. The grin was misinterpreted by the blonde as she took it as a sign of encouragement, taking Spencer's vacated seat next to him. "I'm Kathryn." She breathed. Wyatt froze, throwing an exasperated look over her head at his friends, who were signaling with their eyes for him to throw them a bone.

Wyatt sighed. Enough was enough. He plastered a smile on to his face. "Nice to meet you, Kathryn. What's your friend's name?"

"Grace," she breathed, trying to scoot closer to him.

"Great. Well, these are _my_ friends. That's Spencer, and that's Michael." Kathryn turned her attention to the other officers, as if seeing them for the first time, and a lazy smile spread out over her face. "They'd really like to buy you ladies a drink a bar, and I promise you they'll be perfect gentlemen. Isn't that right?" Wyatt reminded them pointedly as Kathryn rose and linked her arm with a pleased looking Spencer.

"Absolutely." Spencer insisted. "Thanks man, we owe you one." He muttered to Wyatt, as he and Mikey led the girls out of sight towards the bar.

"Nicely done." Harry 'Pez' Taylor laughed from across the booth, having witnessed the whole debacle. "I honestly don't know how they get anywhere with women without you around. Actually, I think it might be _because_ you're not around!"

Wyatt shook his head with a grin, taking a pull of his beer. "I don't know what you mean, Pez."

"Well, we can't all have the bluest eyes I ever did see." Pez laughed. "That's what that one girl in Omaha said, right?"

"If I remember correctly, she went home with Jimmy that night."

"Ever the gentleman." Pez chuckled. "We've got to get you back in the game sometime, man."

"Sure." Wyatt answered non-committedly. It was no secret amongst the soldiers that whilst Wyatt received more than they regarded as his fair share of admiration from the opposite sex, it was entirely unreciprocated. He always politely declined or redirected their affections towards one of his buddies, who were always more than willing to pick up the slack. The Unit always joked that it would be one hell of a woman to turn Wyatt Logan's head (and heart).

"Hey, Wyatt," Marty Tegan greeted him dejectedly as he dropped into the booth opposite, reaching over to shake his hand.

"Hey Marty," Wyatt frowned. "I'd ask how things are going but from the looks of things, not so good?"

"There's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen at the bar," Marty sighed wistfully.

"And one of the smartest." Pez interjected.

"Right, that too. So obviously one of the most unattainable women as well." Marty chuckled.

"Is that right?" Wyatt asked, raising his beer to his lips again. Marty was something of a romantic, so his dramatics didn't come as much of a surprise to Wyatt.

"Oh, yeah, definitely. She's a Professor. She gave me a history lesson about the origin of courtship." Marty sighed dreamily, before snapping out of his daze. "Y'know, before ultimately telling me she wasn't interested. She was very polite about it though, so there's that."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Marty." Pez patted him on the shoulder. "She said the same to me. Except she was a little firmer when she asked me not to call her ma'am."

Wyatt froze. History lessons? An aversion to being called _ma'am_? Surely not…?

Wyatt cleared his throat and tried to act casual. "Was she… is she with anyone?" he enquired, thinking if he could deduce whether Jiya was there or not he could work out whether they were actually talking about Lucy.

"Why?" Pez grinned. "Think you can do better than us, Logan?"

"Just trying to work out where you boys went wrong." Wyatt returned nonchalantly, his mind whirring into overdrive.

"As it happens, she had a friend with her. A spoken-for friend." He added. "Quite the firecracker."

"Her friend had to take a phone-call when I tried my luck." Chase Evans turned to join them. "Something about her boyfriend. So I thought, great, now's my chance! But nada. I got the impression she was spoken-for herself."

"You too, Chase?" Wyatt asked incredulously.

Chase let out a low whistle. "Yes, sir. She's got it all… looks, spirit, smarts. Probably why she has the good sense to turn us all down!" he grinned as they laughed. "She's at the bar, if you lean over enough to your left, you'll spot her. Black dress, dark hair. And, not to be crass, but _smokin_ '-"

" _Alright._ " Wyatt said firmly, cutting him off. "What did I tell you guys about manners, huh?"

"Apologies, Master Sergeant." They chortled, as Wyatt took a deep breath and leaned over the booth in the direction Chase had indicated.

And there she was. Lucy was perched on a high stool at the bar, a glass of almost finished sparkling wine in front of her, scrolling through her phone apparently awaiting the return of Jiya who was mysteriously absent. Wyatt sat back at the table, trying to contain a grin. Turns out his buddies _had_ been hitting on Lucy, and from the sounds of it she'd held her own pretty firmly. Whilst he was partially amused at the situation in general, imagining Lucy shooting down their advances with her unique mix of confidence and historical repertoire, he had to admit that a larger part of him was more than relieved that she hadn't actually taken any of them up on their romantic offers.

For the second time that night, his grin was misinterpreted by someone at the table. "Think you have what it takes, Wyatt?" Pez baited him mischievously.

"Excuse me?" Wyatt replied.

"She shot us all down. Why don't you give it a try?" Chase raised his eyebrows in challenge, not actually believing Wyatt would play ball. He was practically famous in the Unit for being the most stand-up guy of them all, always attracting the attentions of the ladies with his 'pretty boy face' (Spencer's words), but he just wasn't interested… _usually_.

Wyatt had planned on visiting Lucy at the bar momentarily and apologizing for his Unit's behavior anyway, but their teasing sparked a new idea in him. "Sure. Why not?" he replied simply.

They abruptly stopping laughing. "What?" Marty asked, frowning. "You're… you're actually going to go and talk to her?"

"Yeah, I think I am." Wyatt said optimistically, playing along.

"Woah, man, we were just kidding." Pez said worriedly, suddenly serious. "She's not a sure thing, not like those girls from earlier. You've been out of the game for a while, I don't want you getting shot down on your first real outing back out there. She's something else."

Wyatt turned to him, trying not to smile. He really _should_ tell them that he already knew Lucy, that they were friends even. That from across the bar, a friendly, everyday chat with her would look like he was being wildly successful where his friends had failed. However… he felt like teaching them a lesson, and this seemed much more fun.

Wyatt stood. "I'll take my chances."

"Brave man." Chase grinned. "Go get her, champ."

Wyatt turned on his heel with a grin as Pez called after him, "Never gonna happen!"

* * *

Wyatt rounded the corner, scanning the bar for Lucy before catching sight of her through the crowd and making a beeline for her.

"Evening, ma'am." He murmured just loud enough for her to hear when he was in close enough proximity.

She looked up and a smile lit up her face. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"This must be the place to be tonight." Wyatt shrugged, with an easy half-smile. "Where's Jiya?"

"She's on the phone with Rufus. Gaming crisis."

"Poor guy." He chuckled, shaking his head. "So, is this seat taken?" he nodded to the stool next to her.

"I don't know," she mock-grimaced. "That's almost as corny as ' _Do you come here often?'_ "

Wyatt grinned in return. "Actually," he began, ignoring the jibe and hopping onto the bar stool, "I was just coming over here to check you were ok after fending off the advances of some no-good soldiers, but I hear you held your ground pretty well…"

"Oh, you know those guys?"

"Yeah," Wyatt admitted, turning a little more serious. "Sorry about that."

"No need. They were very gentlemanly. They obviously learn from the best." She gave a small, coy smile.

Wyatt dipped his head and smiled, before looking back up at her. "Well, they were very impressed with you. They're all deeply disappointed."

"I'm sure." Lucy snorted, not seeing her own allure, something Wyatt found very hard to believe. "So what did they say when you told them we're already acquainted?"

"I, uh, didn't tell them."

"Did you tell them that we're friends?" Lucy asked slowly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Not exactly." Wyatt replied guiltily. "They _might_ have said something like there was no way you'd give me the time of day, and I might have wanted to rub their faces in it a little."

"And you didn't feel like telling them that you were kind of cheating?" Lucy smirked.

"Nope." Wyatt said, mischief lighting his eyes as they both chuckled.

"Excuse me, ma'am, is this gentleman bothering you?" Pez had come to investigate how Wyatt was faring, appearing at Lucy's side, his words dripping with chivalrous charm. Wyatt froze, not sure how much Pez had heard, and unsure if Lucy was about to blow his cover.

"Not at all. Actually, he was just about to buy me a drink. Right?" Lucy replied smoothly, holding Wyatt's gaze.

"Right." He agreed, his eyes firmly locked on hers, alight with glee.

"And please don't call me ma'am." Lucy said politely, but firmly, to Pez.

Wyatt dipped his chin to hide his smirk. He called Lucy _ma'am_ all the time, and was apparently the only one she allowed to do so. Pez's eyes slid over to Wyatt with a knowing smile on his face. "Of course, my apologies. Have a good evening." He departed with a grin and disbelieving shake of his head at Wyatt.

Lucy sat back in her seat, as Wyatt signaled the bartender. "You owe me," she teased.

"I do. What'll it be?" he asked, as the bartender arrived.

"Actually, I was thinking more like dishes detail for at least a week…" Lucy tried to bargain, as the bartender placed another glass of sparkling wine in front of her.

Wyatt shot her an unimpressed look as he handed some bills over to the bartender. "I hate to break it to you, but I end up doing the dishes most nights anyway."

"That's not true!" she argued, sitting up straighter. "I did them yesterday."

"And I did them the three nights before that…"

They continued to argue over dishes as Wyatt made his way down a new bottle of beer and Lucy down her glass of sparkling wine, the conversation turning towards how big of a meltdown Rufus must be having for Jiya to be taking so long, and whether or not Wyatt's Delta Force buddies would believe their little ruse. Before long, Jiya reappeared looking harried.

"Lucy, I am _so_ sorry that took so long- Oh, hey, Wyatt!" Jiya smiled, coming to a halt next to him.

"Hey," Wyatt smiled back. "How's Rufus doing?"

"Don't ask." Jiya rolled her eyes. "He's stuck on level 43 and I had to talk him through the whole thing. Twenty five frickin' minutes! I told him he can come pick us up at the end of the night for repentance. What are you doing here?"

"The guys in my Unit chose this place."

"Oh, are they the guys who were hitting on Lucy earlier?" Jiya grinned. "Have you come to be her Knight in shining armor?"

"Uh, something like that." Wyatt scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, avoiding the women's gaze.

"Hey Jiya, how about we try that other bar down the street? I've pretty much finished my drink." Lucy said brightly, trying to distract from Wyatt's slight embarrassment.

"Sure, the one with the huge cocktail menu? That place looked fun! You want to come with us, Wyatt?" Jiya asked.

"I better get back to my friends." He replied, cocking his head back towards the direction of the booth. "Who knows what'll happen if they're left unsupervised for too long."

Jiya glanced over at the group of soldiers leaning over the side of their booth, trying to get a better view of Lucy and Wyatt. "Looks like you have an audience." She grinned. "I'll go out front and get a cab. See you later, Wyatt!"

As Jiya departed and Lucy climbed down from her bar stool, Wyatt wondered just how many questions his Unit would be hurling at him when he returned to the table. Of course he could say he had acquired Lucy's phone number (namely because he already had it, but they didn't need to know that), but their avid watching of her exit might complicate matters of keeping up appearances.

"So I guess I'll see you at home then?" Lucy asked, untucking her hair from the collar of her jacket, readying herself to leave.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure." He replied a little distractedly.

Lucy seemed to deduce what he was thinking as her eyes slowly slid behind him to their spectators and then back to Wyatt. A small smile formed on her lips as she took a slow step towards him, steadying herself on one of his arms and leaning in to whisper in his ear. "You _so_ owe me."

"What-?" he began confusedly, distracted by her hair brushing against his cheek, but was cut off when he found her warm lips pressing lightly against his for the briefest of moments. When she drew back he had to blink a few times before finding his voice. "Um. How many glasses of wine have you had?" he asked disbelievingly, not believing for a minute that she'd be so bold if she weren't the least bit inebriated.

"Just two." She replied with quiet confidence, holding his gaze and still steadying herself by gripping his arm. "So. Dishes for at least a week." She stated with a small smile.

"Sure thing." He agreed, slightly dazed and pretty sure he'd agree to anything she asked at this point.

Her embarrassment caught up with her a little as she seemed to realize what she'd done and a blush began to hue her features. "So, um, I'd better go. See you later." With a brief squeeze of his arm and a smile she was gone, Wyatt staring after her and wondering what the hell had just happened. Maybe Jiya _was_ on her way to earning that twenty bucks after all.

As Wyatt sat at the bar for a moment, contemplating his relationship with Lucy before returning to the table, the guys in the booth sat in contemplative silence themselves.

"That man is a God, there are no two ways about it." Marty stated with conclusiveness.

When they told Wyatt as much upon his return and congratulated him on his triumph, begging him to share his secrets at any price, he resolved to tell them at some point that he hadn't exactly played fairly… just not tonight.

* * *

It was 1.30 am and she still wasn't home. Wyatt was starting to get a little worried. It wasn't unusual for them to keep odd hours in their particular line of work (odd hours, odd _years_ ), but usually they were keeping odd hours together, and one of them wasn't being coerced into a drunken stupor by their giddy engineer. Wyatt had arrived home around midnight and was surprised to open the door to a darkened, empty apartment. His bedroom door was wide open, the bed still made and no sign of Lucy in sight.

As he turned over restlessly on the couch yet again, he reasoned with himself that Lucy and Jiya were probably just out having a good time, as well they should be. Jiya was right – they _all_ needed to blow off some steam. He just couldn't help worrying over her it seemed, regardless of the situation – past, present or future.

As he lay staring up at the ceiling, wondering if it would be _too_ overprotective to text her enquiring after her whereabouts – _casually_ , obviously, as if he were always still awake at this time of the morning – his phone began to trill on the coffee table next to him. Wyatt snatched it up, but was surprised to see it was Rufus calling, not Lucy.

"Hello?" he answered with a note of confusion.

"Hey, dude. I'm sorry to call you so late…" Rufus replied wearily. He sounded exasperated. "I- No, Lucy, I'm not giving you the phone. What do you mean, why not? Because it's my phone! You can talk to Wyatt in a minute-"

"Rufus? What's going on?" Wyatt enquired, sitting up and suddenly fully alert.

"I'm parked up outside your building. Special delivery." Rufus replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Wyatt could hear Lucy cackling in the background. "Is that Lucy?" he asked, relieved she was accounted for but not sure exactly what state he'd find her in. He grabbed his keys and made for the door, not stopping for shoes or even a t-shirt.

"Yeah, she thinks I'm real funny apparently." Wyatt could almost hear his grin through the phone. "She and Jiya have had a pretty good night by all accounts. Gonna be one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

Wyatt was taking the stairs two at a time. When he yanked open the front door of his apartment building, he couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the sight before him. Lucy was being propped up by Rufus, leaning against his car with one of her shoes dangling from her hand as she gestured wildly (the other still being on her foot for some reason), with Rufus trying to avoid being impaled by the spike of her heel whilst she (hazily) attempted to recite the line of succession of the English throne. Jiya, he could see, was seemingly passed out in the passenger side seat, fogging up with window with her breath as she drooled a little. A good night indeed.

"And then there was Victoria, and then Edward, and then – _Wyatt_!" Lucy noticed him approaching them with a grin and launched herself, none too gracefully, into his arms.

"Woah," he muttered, acting quickly to catch her and keep her upright and as looped her arms around his neck with all of her weight. "Hey, there. Good night, I take it?"

" _Yes_." Lucy laughed against the hollow of his neck, and he found himself using every ounce of his willpower to not think about the tickling sensation of her breath or that he could feel the outline of her lips against his skin. "Cocktails are _fun_!"

Wyatt exchanged a look with Rufus over her head. He was still leaning against his car, amusedly taking in the situation. "Thanks for bringing her home, man. Jiya said she was going to call you, but I didn't actually think she would."

"Oh, they called me all right. Demanded I bring the Lifeboat to come and pick them up. They were pretty pissed when I told them I couldn't do that." Rufus grinned, shaking his head. "Well, I better get Sleeping Beauty here to bed. I'll call you in the morning to compare levels of how much they want die." He said, motioning to Jiya behind him as he started to make his way back to the driver's side.

Wyatt chuckled, tightening his grip on Lucy's waist to keep her in a vertical position as she busied herself with running her finger across his jawline.

"Oh!" Rufus stopped, pausing at his open door. "Jiya said you owe her twenty bucks. She seemed really set on collecting from you before she passed out. Do you know anything about that?"

"Uh, yeah." Wyatt smirked, glancing down at Lucy. "Tell her she definitely won."

"Ok, man. Good luck." Rufus bade him farewell with a salute, climbing back into his car and driving away.

"Uh, Lucy? What're you doing?" Wyatt raised a quizzical eyebrow as he looked down at Lucy. She was attempting to balance on the one foot which was still ensconced in a shoe, her arm still flung around his neck to steady herself.

"I'm like a _flamingo_!" She declared gleefully as she wobbled from side to side, the only thing actually keeping her upright being Wyatt's strong arm around her waist.

"Sure you are." Wyatt humoured her. "Let's get you inside, huh?"

"Ok," she hummed, resting her head against his shoulder but making no motion to actually move, or use both of her feet.

Wyatt paused. "…that means you have to walk. Can you do that for me, Luce?"

"Huh?" she looked up at him confusedly, and then down at her feet, suddenly bursting into laughter. "I don't think so, Wyatt. Why am I only wearing one shoe? Haaa!"

"Ok." Wyatt muttered to himself, making a decision to take matters into his own hands. He scooped her up into his arms before she could protest, snaking one arm under her knees, and within a few strides they were back through the front door and on their way back up to his apartment.

"You're really strong," Lucy babbled on as Wyatt continued to carry her up flight after flight of stairs. "Like, _really_ strong. You know when you punched out those guys yesterday? That was really impressive. Well not _yesterday_. More like a hundred years ago, but for us, really, yesterday…"

Wyatt was trying to not to laugh as Lucy kept talking. And talking and talking. Apparently drunk-Lucy had next to no filter. Had this been what Jiya had meant when she'd told him drunk-Lucy was also honest-Lucy?

When they reached his apartment door, he gently put her down, making sure to keep one arm around her waist to steady her as he fumbled for his keys. He steered her into the apartment, paying close attention to make sure she didn't trip over her own feet and break an ankle. When they reached the couch she collapsed down onto it, almost pulling him down on top of her with her arm still slung around his neck.

"Oof!" Wyatt grunted, trying to prop himself up against the sofa so his full weight wouldn't land on Lucy as she laughed beneath him, now lying almost flat out. As he tried to right himself, Lucy tried to prop herself up on her elbows, her face suddenly very close to his, making them both pause and banishing her giggles.

Her head cocked to the side as she considered him. "Wyatt?"

"Yeah?" he breathed, very aware of their close proximity, and equally aware that in this circumstance it was very much up to him to be the Responsible One.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she asked, her eyes flicking down unapologetically.

"Oh… right." He sat up properly, no long hovering above her, and looked down at himself. "I didn't really have time when Rufus called… so…" he trailed off as he looked back up at her. Whilst sober-Lucy would have averted her gaze, drunk-Lucy was a little slow on the uptake, and freely allowed her eyes to roam all over him, lingering in particular on his chest. "…Lucy?" he asked off-handedly, trying to contain his mirth.

"…yeah?" her eyes snapped up to his, widened as if in surprise that she'd been caught out.

"Do you want to go to bed?" He asked sympathetically. Her eyes were starting to drift closed every now and then, and she was having difficulty keeping her head upright.

However, at Wyatt's question she seemed to become very aware, her eyes becoming so rounded they resembled saucers. "Do I… do I _what_?" she almost squawked, her voice rising an octave or two.

The double-meaning of his words hit him a second too late. A cheeky half-smile settled on his face, and he couldn't resist teasing her just a little. "Bed. You know… to sleep. Because you've had a long night."

"Oh. Right. Of course. Sleep. Yes, sleep is good." Lucy agreed, visibly flustered and not quite able to look him in eye, much to his amusement. She swung her legs over the side of the couch, almost swinging her entire body onto the floor in the process if Wyatt hadn't hooked an arm around her at the last second.

"Careful, ma'am." He chuckled, pulling her back up. "Why don't I give you a hand?"

She regarded him silently again and she nodded slowly. He held her gaze as he scooped her up once more and carried her down the hall to his bedroom, her arms draped over his shoulders. Her eyes roamed his face for the short trip, one of her hands playing with the hair at the back of his neck. Yes, drunk-Lucy certainly didn't seem to have much of a filter, and apparently little control of her boundaries when it came to Wyatt too. He deposited her gently onto the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face when he was sure she wasn't going to topple off the side.

"I'm going to get you some water, ok?"

She nodded, closing her eyes as she fell back against the pillows. When he returned a few minutes later with a large glass (and some Advil to leave out for her for the morning), she was having a fight with the remaining shoe she was still wearing. A look of fervent concentration graced her face as she fiddled with the buckled-strap, transforming quickly into angry frustration.

Wyatt leaned against the doorframe, grinning. "Hey, Professor, need some help?"

She turned to glare at him. " _I_ am a Professor of History and Anthropology, and I refuse to be beaten by a stupid shoe!"

"Yeah, well, that's mighty impressive, but you're also super wasted, so I think the shoe might have the advantage." He informed her, placing the water and painkillers on the nightstand before taking a seat on the edge of the bed and holding her foot in his hands.

She stilled very quickly as she watched him work on the buckle, freeing her foot, and discarding her shoe across the room. "Better?" he asked.

"Better," she admitted begrudgingly. "I'm not _super_ wasted, you know. Just for the record."

"I hate to break it you, but yeah. You definitely are. Just for the record." He teased.

"Ok, _maybe_." She conceded, covering her face with her hands. "But don't _tell_ anyone."

"Um, I don't think I need to tell anyone. Rufus drove you home, and Jiya was the encouraging voice whispering in your ear all night." Wyatt smiled at her affectionately, gathering her hands in his own and removing them from her face.

"Ha. I guess so." She said softly, looking down at their entwined hands. She paused for a beat, looking back up into his eyes. "Thanks for taking care of me, Wyatt."

"Sure thing, ma'am." He smiled gently, making one of his cheeks dimple.

No-filter Lucy couldn't resist reaching up and cupping his cheek, her thumb stroking across that dimple which quickly disappeared as he realized what she was doing. "Do you remember when you first called me ma'am?" she said wistfully, her hand still gentle on his face.

"Uh, yeah. Back when we first met." He gulped, making his Adam's apple bob.

"I was _so_ annoyed at you." She laughed, her hand falling back onto the bed. "I thought, there's this really handsome guy, and he's an _ass_ , and I'm definitely not old enough to be called _ma'am_ by someone _practically my own age_. I don't mind so much now though." She finished with a fond smile.

"Handsome, huh? I'm flattered, Lucy."

Lucy in her inebriated state seem unabashed. "Yep." She stated simply. "Very, very handsome." Her hand was back on his cheek and there was a crackle of something in the air. She sat back a little and looked at her hand on his face, the motion triggering something in her memory. "Hey, I guess we're even now." She said, her eyes suddenly bright. Her hand fell away again as she waited for him to catch up. When he didn't, simply raising his eyebrows to prompt her, she rolled her eyes gleefully. "Because now you've kissed me, and I've kissed you."

"Huh. I guess that's true." He replied, searching her eyes with a playful smile.

"Although…" she began, coyly avoiding his eyes as she scooted closer. "Mine was barely a kiss, so we're not totally even…" she trailed off, looking up at him through her lashes, her eyes flicking down to his lips.

"That's a… a really good point…" he said with a barely-there voice as they both leaned in a little more, eyes fluttering closed. "Wait." He paused, his brow crinkling before their lips connected. His eyes found hers. He belatedly realized he was supposed to be taking on the mantle of the Responsible One tonight. "I can't believe I'm saying this but… how likely are you to remember this tomorrow?"

Lucy cocked her head to the side, her eyes staring off into the distance in serious contemplation. "A solid 67%."

"That's really precise."

"I'm an academic." Lucy whispered conspiratorially. Wyatt dipped his chin as he smiled, before looking back up at her more seriously. "Ok, I see you point." She conceded. "How about we pick up where we left off when I've sobered up a little? If… if you want to. Oh God, because if you don't that's totally fine-" She was suddenly horrorstruck at the thought that apparently Wyatt had cut her off due to unreturned feelings.

" _Lucy_." He interrupted her, gathering her hands in his again. "Trust me. I've thought about this a lot. Like… _a lot_ a lot. There was just never a good time… and as tempting as this one is, I'm not sure this is a good time either." He paused, and then smiled. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She agreed smiling broadly.

"If you can see through the hangover." He nudged her a little with a grin.

When her chuckling had subsided, she turned more serious. "Are we… are we just talking about a goodnight kiss? Or… everything? This might be the cocktails talking, but I think we should talk about-"

"Everything." He said firmly, looking her dead in the eye. "Definitely everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything." He confirmed. "How much I've wanted to kiss you again ever since Arkansas, for starters."

A slow smile spread across her face. "That's very smooth, Master Sergeant."

"I thought so." He grinned. "Listen. I'm going to go and let you get some sleep now. I'll be right in the next room if you need anything, ok?"

"Goodnight Wyatt," she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight Lucy."

* * *

The next morning, the hangover arrived with a vengeance. Lucy was curled up on the couch, her legs thrown over Wyatt's lap, and a steaming mug of strong coffee in her hand.

"I can't believe I practically threw myself at you." She muttered, her eyes firmly closed.

"Well, we were both dragging our feet a little. A little liquid courage just meant that you ended up being the one to make the first move." He grinned at her as she squinted up at him through one half-open eye.

"Not that I'm not happy about this, because I am-" she gestured between the two of them, "-but I don't love that _I'm_ the one suffering the huge hangover now."

"Well, you and Jiya." Wyatt reminded her.

"Jiya made twenty bucks." Lucy grumbled.

"And all you got was me." Wyatt teased.

Lucy opened her eyes fully and sat up, leaning forward and smiling. "I guess you're not so bad." She kissed his lips softly, before pulling back slightly and holding his gaze. They were interrupted by a knock at the door, which to Lucy sounded like a thunder-clap to her skull.

"Are you expecting company?" Lucy queried.

"No…" Wyatt frowned as he got up to answer the door.

Pez and Chase stood before him, leaning on the doorframe. "Hey man, we just thought we'd drop by and say goodbye before we take off." Chase grinned.

"Since you don't know when you'll be back and all…" Pez trailed off as he caught sight of Lucy appearing at Wyatt's elbow. "Good morning, ma'am. My apologies, uh - ?"

"Lucy." Wyatt filled him in, looping his arm around her waist. "This is Lucy."

The boys took in Lucy's pyjama pants, personalised coffee mug and over-sized sweater, deducing that she and Wyatt were already well-acquainted and this was no one night stand. "Very nice to meet you, Lucy." Chase greeted her politely, holding out his hand to shake hers, as did Pez.

"Officially." Pez added, with a knowing smile aimed at Wyatt.

"Nice to meet you too," Lucy nodded with a smile.

Wyatt, for his part, had the good grace to look suitably sheepish at being caught out. "Yeah, about last night at the bar…"

"Oh, when you let us believe your girlfriend was a stranger and you were a God amongst us mere mortals?" Chase said with a hint of sarcasm, shaking his head with glee. "No wonder you're in no rush to get back to Pendleton."

After they'd exchanged a few more jibes at Wyatt's expense, they bid the soldiers farewell and Wyatt closed the door behind them with a sigh.

"They seem nice," Lucy commented, looping her arms around Wyatt's neck as he snaked his in turn around her waist, holding her to him.

"Yeah, they're good guys."

"They took being cheated remarkably well." She teased.

"I would have told them it wasn't exactly an even playing field... eventually."

"Speaking of which… I have a confession." Lucy began slowly.

"Oh?"

"Well, you know how Jiya won your bet because I got, and I quote, 'super wasted'?"

"…yeah?" Wyatt replied

"I _might_ have told Jiya earlier that day that I wanted to drink myself into oblivion because 1903 sucked so badly, so she was kind of on to a sure thing when she made that bet with you…"

Wyatt's snorted. "Well, I'll be damned. Remind me to get my twenty bucks back from her next time I see her."

"Deal." Lucy laughed.

"Oh, one more thing." Wyatt paused, looking affectionately down at her and placing a lingering kiss on her lips. "Remind me to thank her too."

 **FIN**

 **(a/n)** _If you'd be so kind as to leave me a review, I'd be super grateful as I love to hear your thoughts!_


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